Death's Sacrifice
by Anlynne
Summary: How could death die? Nico, he had barely lived.


It was a last-minute request from Chiron, for Nico and Percy to investigate Broad Street. Nico didn't belong at Camp Half-Blood - he didn't belong anywhere, but somehow Chiron knew that Nico was there. He didn't understand why Annabeth wasn't chosen to go with Percy, or why one of those stupid twins - anyone but him. Nico wanted to say no, he wanted to Shadow travel his way out of there, but he respected Chiron and the tantalizing thought of spending time with Percy was too good to pass up.

The demigod he admired for so long looked better than the last time he had seen him. Nico didn't know how that could be possible, but maybe it was because it was just the two of them. That didn't happen often. He looked over at Percy in the taxi as he gave the address, looking past the horrid orange and green backpack slung over his shoulders, focusing on his black hair that was a little longer, his eyes the color of the Samui's seas that were a little brighter. It could have been Nico's imagination, but it seemed like Percy's arms were tighter, more defined.

Due to all of the practicing he put in, Nico's were, too, but he doubted the son of the sea-god noticed.

He regretted his decision to accompany Percy when they got out of the Taxi at Broad Street. Nico curled his nose against the amount of passing people - tourists or locals, it didn't matter. It was all too bright for him.

"Why were you at the camp," Percy asked conversationally, but hesitantly, knowing that Nico was not much of a conversationalist.

"None of your business," he answered. It was true, he was bad in social situations. Being the son of Hades had that affect on a person.

"Okay, man."

Nico's shoulders were hunched up to his ears. He forgot why he agreed. Being with Percy was too painful. How dense could the guy be? Nico felt like his emotions were written on his face. Not only that, but it was daytime, and Nico hated the way the sun felt like it was permanently scarring his waxy skin, the fresh air odd to his lungs, too many scents of pastries. He had spent too long in the Underworld, he realized. No wonder the people they past were giving him a wide berth. It wasn't because of his black clothes, his skull ring, or his general appearance, it was that he had the aura of death. They probably didn't even know why they were doing it.

"Hey," Percy held his arm out. "Something is wrong here."

Nico resisted the urge to roll his eyes, but realized that they were on a quest and Chiron didn't tell them what they were looking for. In the centaurs defense, his attention was immediately called away when one of the Stoll brothers lit up the toilets. Whatever it was that they were looking for, it was nowhere in sight. Nico looked around, saw some ghosts milling through humans, some sad, some curious. He avoided eye contact with them. He was sure ghosts were not the problem, but then why else would Chiron send _him, _the Ghost King?

Then a wind blew against them and a stench overwhelmed his nasal passage. He felt like throwing up, but there was a _boom, boom, boom, _shaking the ground. A pebble bounced its way off the pavement under a passing taxi.

Nico looked up just in time to see an eight-foot tall Minotaur bursting around the corner, steam curling up from its snout, its eyes blood red.

Percy grabbed the back of Nico's aviator jacket and threw him against the wall of a cafe. He uncapped his sword Riptide and sliced at the Minotaur's leg as it ran past. It stopped short of the next corner, lifting its horned head and yowling into the blindingly bright sky.

Nico's head felt like it was splitting in two. He rubbed the spot and clumsily got to his feet. He unsheathed his Stygian sword and glared at Percy. Sure, the sidewalk wasn't large enough for both of them to fight side by side, but that was unnecessary.

"Next time, tell me before throwing me around!"

"Next time."

The Minotaur turned its large head to them, snorting spit out of its nose. It clawed the sidewalk with its hoof and glared its red eyes at them.

Percy glanced around at the pedestrians, but Nico had never cared much for what they were seeing. The Mist did its job and soon those people were going to forget all about them. Either way, Nico wouldn't be around.

The monster charged and Nico and Percy made way for it; Percy using a chair to climb up on, and Nico on a parked taxi, both cutting its sides as it drove past. Nico couldn't help it, he smiled at Percy and Percy was grinning from ear to ear.

When the Minotaur reached the opposite end of the street, it turned and looked even angrier than before. Then again, Nico couldn't blame it, if he had been walking around Broad Street and someone attacked him... Then again, Minotaur's were dangerous to even mortals. Sure, the accidents were passed off as something else, but that was a demigod's job, it was to protect. Admittedly, Nico felt he hadn't done much of that. He Shadow traveled around the world, met ghosts and picked up stories. He avoided life and soaked himself in death.

"Incoming... Nico, get out of the way, I have a plan."

Nico didn't need to ask. The Minotaur charged at them and Nico went back to the wall when at the last possible second Percy jumped up on one of the tables, knocking a lady's espresso and Percy leapt on the Minotaur's back.

Like a bull the Minotaur tried to shake him off, but Percy held tight, his arm around its neck. He plunged his sword into the monster's side, right between his ribs. The monster roared with pain.

Nico moved quickly, standing behind it, in front of the traffic as Percy was effectively thrown backward into his arms. Nico fell under the weight, his head lying right in front of a tire.

The monster exploded into dust.

Percy looked down at him, hurriedly getting to his feet. He offered his hand. Nico stared at it for a beat, considering knocking it away, but he took it. Call it a gesture of good will. That, and he didn't want to be mad at Percy forever.

"Huh," Percy exhaled, picking up a horn. "I got one like this when I first got to camp." He inspected it before handing it to Nico.

"I didn't do anything." He tried to give it back but Percy waved him away.

"You caught me."

Nico sneered at it. It offended him. Nico may be a little younger than Percy, less experienced, but that did not mean he was less powerful. In fact, Nico did practice, usually late at night in graveyards with skeletons and he was good. It seemed as Percy was doing him a favor, as if he wasn't good enough to stand equally by his side.

The thought inflamed Nico, and he closed his fist around the horn and it became dust, escaping through the cracks of his fingers like an hourglass.

The wind blew again, and the stench was even stronger this time. Percy reached for his sword that had reappeared in his pocket. They ran down Broad Street and turned into a small alleyway. It smelled of garbage and gasoline.

In front of them was another Minotaur. It was a shorter than the other one by a few inches, its snout was shorter, huffing out wet snorts.

"How many are there," Nico exclaimed.

It wasted no time in storming right at them.

Nico ran forward, his sword held high as he slid onto his side beside the beast and plunged the sword into its hip, but the piercing wasn't enough to demolish it, and his sword was caught there, dangling.

His side hurt, his short torn, his arm bloody, but he had been in worse shape with worse injuries. He got to his feet, and thought of how much easier it would be if he could summon a few skeletons, but that took a lot of effort. He was confident that he and Percy could do it.

The Minotaur, obviously upset with the trick, more enraged than the last, spun and aimed its horns at Nico. Nico eyed his sword in its hip. He tried to devise a quick way out of it. Shadow traveling would be best, but there was no telling where he would end up and how long it would take him to get home. Not only that, he was not leaving Percy, especially as he barely trusted him.

So Nico stood there, like an idiot, waiting for the monster to charge him. If he was quick, he could grab his sword without being hit.

Then Percy yelled, understanding the situation, but the Minotaur didn't even twitch its ear. Percy then did the dumbest thing Nico had ever witnessed: He placed himself in front of the monster, his left hand grappling one of its horns.

It reared up, Percy still gripping its horn. Somehow he was able to aim his own sword right at the monster's chest. He pushed in, and the monster fell with a great cry and so did Percy. It dispersed in a cloud of dust, but Percy didn't get up.

It took a moment for Nico's mind to catch up to the scene. It was in slow motion, a black and white horror movie. It was as if he was running through wet sand, unable to move fast enough to his liking. All he saw was blood dripping to the pavement. Everything else lost color.

"Percy?" Nico heaved him on his back.

In the middle of Percy's chest was the brown horn of the Minotaur. Percy's eyes were wide in shock. He went to touch it, but it disappeared and Nico gasped. It would have been better if it was left in, but they would have to make do.

Nico grabbed Percy's bag, carefully moving it off his shoulders. He rifled through a number of useless items such as candy wrappers, movie tickets, and a smooshed blue cupcake until he found a zip lock bag of ambrosia. He looked up, the zip lock bag in his hand, but he could see Percy's life force, once bright and pulsing it was diminishing, the pulsing faint.

The Fates were cutting his string.

The ambrosia wouldn't be enough to save him. Nico shoved it in his mouth anyway, holding his jaw closed.

"Come on, Percy, respond!" Nico was panicking, he started screaming, rocking back and forth on his knees. "Percy, please. Don't give in now. Don't. This is a stupid way to die." He cursed, leaning his head on the man he loved, letting the tears fall. "Don't take him away, Thanatos. Please..."

Percy's eyes were slits, but he was watching Nico or looking past him. It was hard to tell, they were glazed over; his breath ragged, but Nico didn't need any of that to know that his time was being cut short.

"Take me... To Camp..."

"I will. I promise. Gods, Percy," he seethed, "I could have handled it on my own."

"Wanted... To... Protect... You..."

"That's stupid," he spat.

Eros would have a fit, because there Percy was dying in his arms, and Nico still couldn't say it. He had been warned, so long ago of the importance of time. There was never enough time, most vitally for demigods, and Nico should have known that better than anyone.

"I'm sorry... I... Never told you..." He touched Nico's bloodied arm. "Never treated you well... Sorry..."

"It doesn't matter," Nico said earnestly. Nothing mattered anymore. Percy's string was about to be cut.

He found that he was gripping Percy's sleeves. His rib cage constricted over his heart and he couldn't breathe.

_You can't bring back the dead_, he reminded himself. He had tried with his sister, clinging to her ghost until she left him to be reborn. He knew Percy would do the same, that he would stay in Elysium waiting for Annabeth, and Nico could never talk with him.

Percy's eyes closed.

A growling started in Nico's chest, and he looked looked down at the concrete with hatred, picturing his father, Hades, in his mind. "What is the use of being your son? What have you ever done for me, dad? Hide me away, take away my sister, hate me for not being as good as her. Now you take him. How much more will you let me lose?"

He gathered himself and draped Percy over his shoulders. He bent and took his sword. If Percy died then his sword would vanish without its owner at its side. Nico couldn't have that, Riptide was his pride and joy.

With heavier steps, he walked into the shadows that beckoned him, let it wrap over him like a cloak that had been left in the snow. He let it sweep him away.

* * *

He walked into Camp Half-Blood, a dead demigod over the shoulders of the son of death. A death march to a funeral.

Everyone stood up from the campfire, some reaching for their weapons. Only Annabeth ran forward, having recognized Percy. She helped him down off his shoulders into the tall grass that was dying by Nico's feet.

Annabeth, pressed her fingers to his neck and looked to Nico for confirmation, a hope that Nico would say that he would live, but there wasn't much more time. It was better that Percy spent his last moments with Annabeth. That was the way it should be.

Nico shook his head, the tears rolling down his cheeks again, Riptide falling out of his grip. There was not a part of him that didn't hurt, he felt like he had swallowed nails, taken beatings into his stomach, had his heart stop and restart and stomped on.

She cradled his head and Nico curled into himself, unable to stop shaking.

The screams and chatters were background noise. He could only hear the screaming in his own head, like a mad man.

It was a while before he got to his feet, his gaze down. He started walking to the North Woods.

"Nico," Annabeth called, her voice hoarse and broken. "Where are you going?"

"Home."

"Why?"

"I'm going to bring him back."

After everything he had been through, everything he had suffered, he deserved this one favor, but favors were not given, not even to the children of the gods. No, he had to make a deal.

* * *

Percy woke up alone in the sick bay in complete darkness. His heart was hammering as if it had never stopped, like he was still fighting that Minotaur.

Nico!

He looked frantically around. There were a few others in there with them were bandaged badly from a fight, but none of them were Nico's size. His heart caught in his throat and he couldn't swallow or breathe.

Working his way to sitting up he had only then noticed that his shirt was missing replaced with a wrap of bandages. He remembered then, he was stabbed in the chest. He should have died, but there were many times Percy should have died and didn't. He was a great disappointment to a lot of monsters and a few Gods.

He stood, finding his pen on the nightstand. That was odd, as it always appeared in his pocket. He touched it lightly, the steel cold like ice against his fingertips.

Stumbling out the door, he took a deep breath of the honeysuckle and strawberry of Camp Half-Blood. Whatever had happened, at least he was alive and home.

That was when he spotted a figure made out of darkness staggering its way toward the Big House. Percy squinted and recognized the dark clothes and gaunt expression of Nico. He was walking strange, as if every step was going to be his last.

Percy ran down and was just in time for Nico to collapse in his arms. Holding him up was not a problem, Nico barely weighed more than a small pile of bones.

"Nico, what happened?"

Nico didn't speak, but Percy felt something warm and wet on his arms. When he got him lowered to the ground, he realized that it was blood. It had spread over Nico's black shirt, staining it a deep purple, the skull sewn there was a mocking crimson.

"Couldn't... Couldn't let you die," Nico gasped.

Percy left, sprinting back into the Big House, taking some ambrosia crackers off of someone's nightstand and skidded back to Nico's side. He brought them up to his lips, but Nico turned his head away, his hand lifted up a couple of inches from the ground in protest.

"Dying."

"No, you're not. You'll be fine, Nico." Percy tried to say it lightly, but he didn't believe it and his voice became cracked with emotion he could barely contain.

Percy had been through a lot, every demigod had, but this was the worst. Worse than every monster and god he had faced. Worse than the near destruction of his precious city, worse than being turned into a rat - or whatever it was that he was turned into. Nico was something that couldn't be replaced or fixed or won. Nico was dying and it was his fault.

"Had to reverse... Took a curse..."

Percy couldn't think clearly, he didn't understand. "Nico... Why?"

"Love."

He put his hand on his neck, running his thumb over his cheek. He felt Nico's pulse slowing, throbbing against his palm like a broken promise. He knew he should have done something, but there was nothing to do, there was no one to help. Nico's father didn't make exceptions and the Fates were not kind. Thanatos was coming and Percy could do nothing about it.

Percy pulled him onto his lap, wrapping his arms around the small demigod. He kept his hand where it was at, because Nico already looked dead. Nico walked around like a corpse, the grass died at his feet. He was death. How could death die? Nico, he had barely lived.

The small boy laid his hands together, as if readying himself to be put into a coffin. But Percy realized that's not what he was doing, he was taking off his skull ring. He turned up his palm, offering the morbid piece of jewelry to Percy.

Taking a deep breath, placed his palm over his knuckles. "Nico... I love you, too." He meant it.

The throb under Percy's palm ceased.

Over the hills of the camp the sun broke the sky into shards of color. Percy didn't move, he didn't let go of Nico. He watched the sunrise.

Before they were found, Percy strung the skull ring on his necklace, and he tied the seashell one he had around Nico's neck, tucking it into his shirt. He lifted him up, and took him into the Big House. He laid him in the bed where Percy had woken.

He couldn't catch his breath, the air was thick and impossible. He felt that he had been stabbed by the Minotaur all over again. He was drowning in the worst way he knew how. He ran his hand over his mop of black hair, bunching it in his fist. He pressed a hard and chapped kiss to the lord of the Underworld's forehead. He prayed that Nico would make it to Elysium.


End file.
